


Gender Politics

by MachaSWicket



Category: Gilmore Girls, Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for A Year in the Life, a glimpse into the near future, luke is my favorite gilmore girl, my headcanons in the form of fic, spoilers for the last four words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachaSWicket/pseuds/MachaSWicket
Summary: SUMMARY:  Lorelai, Rory, Luke, and a conversation at Luke's -- a glimpse into the near future. SPOILERS for Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I couldn’t resist the idea of this, and I have pretty extensive headcanons of where they’ll all be in a year or two, so… yeah. Excuse my rustiness with these characters it’s been ten-plus years since I’ve written them.

 

 

“It’s a boy?” Lorelai repeats, then shakes her head, like there’s water in her ears that needs dislodging. 

Rory’d gone all the way to Danbury for the twenty week sonogram, and had absolutely refused to let Lorelai take time away from overseeing construction on the new Dragonfly to accompany her. Lane went to the appointment, and Rory doesn’t talk about him very much, but Lorelai’s  _pretty_  sure Logan Skyped in from London. The most Lorelai could get out of Rory was this promise to meet up _right_  afterwards at Luke’s. “Seriously? A boy?”

Rory’s brow is furrowed in matching puzzlement, one hand on her sizable bump, the other wrapped around her mug of (decaf) coffee. “Yes. A boy.” 

“Huh,” Lorelai says, looking down at the baby bump, then back up at her own (fully grown) baby. “That’s...”

“Yeah,” Rory agrees, nodding. “I mean, I’m happy. He’s healthy and energetic and did I mention _healthy_? I just didn’t expect this.”

“Right,” Lorelai agrees, thinking guiltily of the piles of lavender “Gram’s Favorite” onesies she’s already bought, because _of course_  Rory would have a girl. They’re Gilmores! They have daughters! Rory’s nearly finished writing a book all about how much they have daughters! But she’s... having a boy. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Rory agrees again. She’s clearly still mulling the news over, and Lorelai half-expects her to retreat to her apartment above the diner to mull in peace. It’s been nearly three months since Rory’s been _officially_ back in Stars Hollow, but she’d absolutely refused to move back into her childhood bedroom to have and raise this baby. There’d been yelling and tears and angry silences, and then there was Luke, saving the day as usual, silently handing Rory the keys to his old apartment.

They’d spent nearly two weeks vanquishing about eight years worth of dust and neglect from the place, before moving Rory in. Most of the town had pitched in, though no one outside the family knew about the pregnancy then. Sookie’d sent five pies and two cakes as a house warming gift. Jess came by one weekend to help Luke strip the old paint from the windowsills and door jambs (”Lead paint, Rory!" Luke'd ranted. "We can’t have you and the baby living with _lead paint_!”). Even Lorelai had to grudgingly admit that _most_  of Jess’s punkish terribleness has mellowed with age. 

Lorelai and Rory and Lane decorated the place in an eclectic mix of redeemable furniture from Luke’s time in the apartment, contributions from Lorelai’s admittedly overstuffed home, and some bargain finds off the antiquing trail two towns over. 

Then finally, Rory had a place to unpack all of her boxes and reassemble her life. 

And a place to write – the Gilmore estate in Hartford sold six weeks ago, so Rory’s writing here in the apartment, running the _Stars Hollow Gazette_ , and taking 75% of her meals in the diner, and most of the rest at Lorelai and Luke’s. 

Lorelai’s trying _so hard_ to be the support Rory needs without pushing her. Rory’s taken this life change mostly in stride, though she is still raw and quiet when she tries to talk about how awkward things are with Logan. He’s still deciding how involved he’ll want to be with his child, and still trying to salvage his relationship with his fiancee. It’s messy, and Lorelai wants nothing more than to warn Rory off, to protect her from the tempting but temporary kind of support Logan will offer – now _and_  in the future. Because Lorelai has seen this before; she’s _lived_  this before, and she and Rory both have the scars to prove it. 

But Rory needs to make her own mistakes and learn her own lessons. “Hey, kid,” Lorelai says, taking her daughter’s hand. “Everything okay in that big brain of yours?” 

“Sure,” Rory answers automatically, but her smile is still a little forced. 

Luke stops by their table, dropping a hand on Lorelai’s shoulder. “Refills?” he asks. 

Lorelai and Rory both nod, and it doesn’t escape Lorelai’s attention that Luke brought the orange-handled decaf pot over first. She grins up at her husband. “Hey, guess what?”

Luke finishes topping off Rory’s mug. “What?” he asks, giving her that half-smile that still, all these years later, makes something in her chest flutter. 

Rory brightens, beaming up at him, and Lorelai is _so_  relieved to see genuine joy and excitement in her expression. “You’re going to be a Grampa.”

Luke blinks, clearly stunned into silence, because he’s known about Rory’s pregnancy since about thirty minutes after Lorelai found out, but Rory’s never used that word to describe what Luke would be to her child. Lorelai’s known, and she’d just assumed Luke knew -- he’s been more of a father figure to Rory than anyone else in her life. But from the way he’s standing there all stiff and shocked, she realizes he _hadn’t_ assumed. In some ways, they’re still working on _un_ -separating the parts of their lives that they’d kept separate all these years.

Lorelai reaches up and takes his hand, squeezing it. When he looks down at her, she says, “If I’m Gram, you’re Gramps. That’s just the way it works with us old married folk.”

Luke shuffles his weight a little and nods. “Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Of course.”

Rory laughs, and when she starts talking this time, it’s in her typical cadence -- fast and filled with excitement. Because through all the change, all the disappointments, and even the heartbreak, Rory has been _excited_  about this baby. Nervous and uncertain, but _excited_. “Of _course_  you’re Gramps, Luke. But what I should’ve said was:  I’m going to need your help. A lot of it, maybe, because I’m having a boy, and while I _obviously_  don’t subscribe to gender roles, it would be just my luck to have a little sports-obsessed boy, because I don’t _get_  sports. I mean, I can follow the rules, I just don’t really see the point, or why sports inspires people to drink ten beers and paint their faces blue and yellow.”

Luke squeezes Lorelai’s hand tightly. “A boy?” he echoes, surprise and wistfulness mixed in his voice.

Lorelai nods. “Right? It’s so weird.” Then she reaches her free hand across the table for Rory. “ _Good_  weird,” she assures. 

Rory nods. “Right, _good_  weird. Maybe that’s what I should name him.” 

“Anything you need,” Luke tells Rory. “You know I’ll do anything for you _and_  your kid.” He smiles one of those rare, full smiles. “Your _son_.”

Rory beams back at him. “Yes,” she says, “my son.”

Lorelai’s shock at the news is finally and fully subsumed by a thousand mental images of her little girl holding a little boy, teaching a little boy how to talk, how to walk, how to live in the world. She’s sitting there in Luke’s, holding her husband’s hand and her daughter’s hand, and this feeling of family, of belonging is what she’s been chasing since she was sixteen. “My _grandson_ ,” she says, her voice suffused with wonder.

Rory’s eyes are sparkling with tears, and Lorelai’s vision is all blurry, but she jumps up and tugs her daughter with her, pulling Rory into her arms. 

They hug and laugh and cry, and beside them, Luke grumbles, “Oh, jeez.”

But Lorelai just laughs a watery laugh and holds her daughter tighter. “Get me more coffee, husband!” she orders. “I need to hug my daughter and my grandson.”

“Whatever you say, wife,” Luke rejoins. 

Rory huffs a laugh into Lorelai’s shoulder, then pulls back. Her expression is so happy when she says, “Mom, I’m having a boy!”

 

END


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